WS Merwin named Poet Laureate

Since it’s Friday, here’s a somewhat Debbie Downer poem by the highly acclaimed poet: My friends My friends without shields walk on the target It is late the windows are breaking My friends without shoes leave What they love Grief moves among them as a fire among Its bells My friends without clocks turn On the dial they turn They part My friends with names like gloves set out Bare handed as they have lived And nobody knows them It is they that lay the wreaths at the milestones it is their Cups that are found at the wells And … Continue reading WS Merwin named Poet Laureate